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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26921266">Postcards</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unholy_Dionysus/pseuds/Unholy_Dionysus'>Unholy_Dionysus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Barebacking, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Canon-Typical Violence, Cock &amp; Ball Torture, Dry Sex, Hannibal has a small dick, M/M, Masochism, Mommy Issues, Mommy Kink, Oh jeeze - where do I even start, Older Man/Younger Man, Sadomaschoism, Season/Series 02, Sub Hannibal Lecter, Top Will Graham, Violent Sex, after will gets out, masturabtion, slight size kink</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:29:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,229</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26921266</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unholy_Dionysus/pseuds/Unholy_Dionysus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Will finds a collection of vintage french postcards. He didn't expect to find his psychiatrist on display.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>130</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Postcards</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>	Will Graham was already having a long day, the fact that the antique shop had sold the boat piece he had on hold was just the tip of the iceberg. In a righteous act of justice, Will Graham apprehend the first small box he came across in the shop - which he slipped away in his coat before making his exist - and made his way home with his petty bounty. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	Meeting the dogs at his door with a small smile, Will flopped into his bed with a sigh. He pulled the box from his pocket, giving it a once over. It was a little smaller then a note-pad, just an indiscreet cardboard box held together with twine, labeled -French Postcards, 50s—. Will slid his pocket knife under the twine and pulled open the box to reveal what appeared to be a stack of nude photographs printed onto stock paper. A soft flushed rounded out Will’s cheeks as he flipped through them. They varied from tasteful to humorous, from underwear to fully nude, all the makings of vintage softcore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	Will slid a hand into his boxers, simply stroking along his cock - above his boxers, more the sake of boredom then a desire. A light twitch pulled from his loins as he shuffled through to a black and white photo of a woman in dog collar, her hands cuffed - an older man standing above her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“Long live the French,” will muttered under his breathe, only there could they trade around softcore fetish porn in the 50s. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	Another twitch from beneath his left hand, the fault falling onto a photo of two nude women with hourglass figures, pressed together - their lips intertwined. God bless the French. Will lifted his hips pausing to pull down his pants for easier access, still only teasing - only no much more interested. Sliding his cock through his boxers he panted into the air, flipping through pictures that only seemed to grow bolder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	A startling image of a young man pressed against an older woman, the - possible - illusion of him penetrating her. A look of ecstasy gracing their faces. Will could almost taste the lust of the moment, picture himself there with them. The young man pressing into the woman, he feels aggressive, thrusting harder then he needed — Will’s hand gaining speed — but the man in the photo wants more. Will can feel it, he wants to give the boy what he wants, a firm hand reprimanding him for misbehavior — for being so rough with his mistress.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	Will bit into his lip, slipping the photo to the side - separate from the other, he thought he might frame it. Until he saw the next one. The same young man, facing the camera, his soft cock left out in the open for the viewers gaze. Will moaned, a throb from from his own cock edging him on. There was something so delicious about the false innocence in the boys eyes and flaccid manhood, but he could feel the sin under the man’s skin — see the lie in all its glory. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	The final post card left Will’s throat dry. Yet another postcard featuring the same man. This time his hands covered his more intimate parts, as if he were hiding in shame. The black thick collar — tight, perhaps to tight — against the man’s throat. Those precious lips left parted and unobstructed, like he was waiting for you to slide in. And dear god, how Will wanted to press inside, stretch those pouting lush pink lips, rub the head of his cock across that gorgeous cupids bow. Will came with his head thrown back and a deep moan. It dripped down the stock photo — painting the boy with pearly beads. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“Fuck,” Will muttered to himself, grabbing the hem of his duvet to wipe the photo clean of evidence. As he fumbled with the postcard words scribbled on the back caught his eye. Once he was sure that he had cleaned card he glanced down at the note on the back; </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	In looping cursive,</span>
  <span> A</span>
  <span> maman avec amour, Hannibal Lector, votre victime consentante.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	Will could feel his heart skip over a beat, as he made out the name of his friend and psychiatrist. The letters swirled together in Hannibal’s perfect cursive. Will fumbled with his phone one handed as he pulled up a translation service, plugging into the words with a shaky — and still sticky — hand;</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>	</span>
  <span>To mommy with love, Hannibal Lector, your willing victim.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	A full body flush ran through Will’s body as he flips the postcard back over. How could he have missed it. He had spent hours staring at those lips, watching them twist around words and suck nearly provocatively on utensils. Seen those same eyes staring into his. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	IF he could recall the other mans birthday correctly then Hannibal was a boy of 18 on the marked year ‘1958’, just before he left for Florence. Not innocent but not yet a monster.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>———</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	At the next therapy session a tension more heavy then usual settled in the air. Will could almost laugh at it, the man had him committed and will felt —against his will— at home in the man’s space, but it was knowingly masturbating to a younger version of Hannibal — that threw will into an state of uncertainty.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	Will was certain that he found Hannibal attractive, both as a young man and now in his late age. Hannibal Lector has aged like a fine wine, one to be savored and only opened for special occasions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	 What will was uncertain about, was what to do about it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“You seem tense, Will,” Hannibal leaned forward in his chair, as he so often did — pressing his way into Will’s space, daring him to do something about it. Will wonders if this is a treatment all his other patients get. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	Hannibal's words felt oddly teasing, Will was left to pray that he had imagined the almost seductive behavior from the doctor. Had he always gazed at Will with such intensity? Yes, but Will felt he had only just begun to see the layers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“I’m always tense, Doctor Lector,” An odd lie, in that it was the truth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	Hannibal let out a gentle hum,”More so now then ever, what are you seeing, Will?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“You,” Will’s smile was more of a grimace, Hannibal thought it was beautiful, all the same. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“What is it, that you think you see in me, Will?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“Desire,” Will mirrored the other man’s posture, so that they were both leaning into each other, only inches of space between them — yet none at all. “Desire, to see what will happen when you push all of my buttons. You want to see if I’ll punish you, Doctor Lector,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	Hannibal's lips twitched upward, “What is you think I have done to deserve punishment, Will?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“How about we start, with all those naughty pictures of you. A bright eyed boy in Paris, bound in rope. Were they silk or something rougher,”.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	Hannibal straightened back into his chair. His mouth still turned upwards, perhaps more so then before. Will couldn’t help but want to wipe the smugness off his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“I can’t say that I expected our conversation to turn in this direction,” Hannibal said,”You never cease to surprise me, William. Just what pictures did you find,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“Postcards.Found them in a antique shop, of all places. Tell me Doctor Lector, how was your relationship with your mother,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“Oh, those ones,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“Those ones,” agreed Will.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“My mother died when I was a boy. Still I knew her longer, then you did yours,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“You’re pushing my buttons, Doctor Lector,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“Will you punish me, Will?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	That was all it took for Will to push out of his chair, to pull Hannibal up by the lapels of his plaid suit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	Will stared into dark — nearly red — eyes. Eyes lit with excitement and the look of a man all to pleased with himself. Hannibal pressed further into Will’s space, sharing his breath as the younger man’s hands gripped tighter to Hannibal’s suit. Hannibal's lips brushed Will’s ear with a shudder as he leaned to the side,</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“I’ve been a very bad boy, mommy,”.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	Hannibal was shoved onto his desk, having the audacity to still look self-satisfied as he took in Will’s form standing over him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“What are you still so pleased about,” Will whispered pinning the doctor to the desk by his wrists. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“I’m a very tidy man Will, I like when things are put in their place,”.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“And is your place, under me? Doctor Lector,”.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“At the moment, my place, is wherever you please,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	Will moved that hand that was occupied holding Hannibal’s wrists down - not that Will was under any delusion that Hannibal could throw him off with ease, but he was also aware that if he let go, Hannibal would not hesitate to strike — his fingers brushing against the zipper of the doctors trousers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“Actually, I think your place is on your knees,” Will pulled him from the desk only to shove him by his shoulders onto the floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	He looked hungry on his knees.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“You want me to feed you?” Will asked running his thumb along Hannibal’s lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“Yes, Mamytė,” his words muffled as he sucked Will’s thumb into his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	It felt dangerous to stick his hand in the mouth of the beast. It felt powerful to know the beast would not bite down, not without permission form its master. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	The thumb was withdrew, two more fingers taking it’s place. Hannibal moaned around them, like they were a delicacy to be savored. Will scissored his fingers outward, stretching Hannibal's mouth obscenely. Will could see inside him, it was only fair. Hannibal has seen inside him, after-all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	Hannibal pressed the palm of his hand into his crotch. A mistake. Will withdrew his finger, kicking Hannibal. The doctor now laying flat on the ground, his hands pushed away heel of Will’s steel-toed boots. He leaned some of his wait down, Hannibal yelled out in pain, but he thrust-ed into the pressure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“I had you pegged for a sadist, Hannibal. I didn’t expect the masochism.” Will let up his weight, but only to kick Hannibal’s legs apart. His boot landing between them, brushing against the doctors groin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“A lot of people have had me pegged, Will,” Hannibal licked his lips, “And I would consider myself a sadomasochist. I like to get as much as I give, sweet boy,”. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“You Just can’t help being a brat, can you, even with your cock under my boot,” Will said tilting his head in question, “Though I wonder if you have nothing to fear in that matter. Can you even get it up, in your late age? Do you need a little blue pill, Doctor Lector?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	Hannibal growled, “Why don’t you come down here and check for yourself,”. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	Will obliged him, his knees dropping between spread legs, his hands wrapping around the man’s neck. Hannibal’s eyes went wide, he bucked forward. Maybe for friction. Maybe in an attempt to throw the other man off. Will didn’t care either way. He held Hannibal down, until his face went red. Only then sliding his hands down Hannibal’s body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	Will ripped the trousers with his off of him, without decorum, a soft smile lighting up the profilers face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>	“Awe, it’s so cute. I hardly think it matters that you can get it up. Even hard your just a handful,” Will mocked,grabbing Hannibal’s cock, rolling his balls in his hand “I could almost laugh. I think I can spare you that one mercy, though,”. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	Hannibal whimpered, “Please,just. Do it,”.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“Please, what?” Will asked, “You’re such a needy boy, aren’t you Hannibal. You just take and take and take. You’ve taken so much from me. Why should I give you anything at all?”.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“Please,” Hannibal repeated, “don’t make be beg for your love Mamytė, Prašau, man reikia tavęs manyje. Aš tokia tuščia mamytė,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“In English, Hannibal,” Will tutted and shook his head, “it </span>
  <span>rude</span>
  <span> to say things your parter can’t understand,”.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>	Hannibal nearly sobbed, “Please, please, please. Please, I need you inside of me. I'm so empty mommy. I Know I’m so needy, I’m so empty”. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	Will swallowed, like he was swallowing up all of Hannibal’s secrets. Will thought he’s like to keep them. Cherish and use them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	“Shh,” Will smiled, shoving his jeans down, just enough to pull out his manhood, “I’ll fill you up,”.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	He pushed in dry. Tears ran down Hannibal’s face. Half in pain, Half in relief. Will wasn’t kind. Hannibal’s love had not been kind. It was only fair that he got just as much as he gave. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>	Each thrust seemed to push a noise from Hannibal’s throat. A yell, a moan, a sob, a plea. Will drank them all. Hannibal had indeed aged like fine wine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	Will pushed in deep each time, slowly but viciously fucking into Hannibal. He was tight, a near death grip on Will’s arousal. Will didn’t mind that he would chafe, the burn felt good. For both of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	Will pressed in a final time, holding himself there. Filling Hannibal up, just like he wanted. It had not gone unnoticed that Hannibal had gone soft in the midst of their violent love making. Will leaned down to press his chapped lips against the soft ones under him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>	Hannibal whispered into the air they shared, “I have copies of more postcards at my house,”. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I chose to use a birth year closer to the one in the books, Though I did choose later in the 30's the '33. So he wasn't a minor in Paris, I decided the show takes place in 2010 at the start. Hannibal is like in his early 60s/late 50s in this. Math doesn't completely add up, but don't think about it for too long. </p>
<p>Also French post cards were one of the earliest types of pornography that was available to the masses. They are by today's standards softcore. They were quite scandalous at the time though and yes, they did have lesbian and fetish porn on then. Homosexulity has been legal in Paris since the 1791, however there was still a great deal of discrimination (and still is today, though not to the extent as it was in the 50s). You were very much expected to keep it to yourself and not display PDA beyond what was acceptable for same sex friends to do so.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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